


the cat situation

by celsius



Category: Critical Role
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celsius/pseuds/celsius
Summary: They say that the way to a wizard’s heart is through his familiar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been years since I wrote fanfiction, but this snippet basically wrote itself.

Caleb stood on the balcony overlooking the garden, and waited for someone to come and pry into the cat situation. Eventually, he heard bare feet stump up behind him.

“Did you want something, Beauregard?”

Beau took a place beside him at the railing but did not meet his eyes. Instead, she cast her gaze down at the lawn below, where Frumpkin was lying next to a sleek black tomcat. 

Essik’s familiar.

“So, uh — your Frumpkin. You can BE him, right?”

“Not… precisely.” Caleb chose his words cautiously. “His actions can reflect my desires. We were brought together because we are of one temperament.”

The cats did not move. They barely even touched. However, every so often, one would glance at the other, and look so unbearably smug to be there that it was almost more intimate than if they had been snuggling. Caleb supposed they were enjoying the tension between them. They were both good and handsome boys.

Beau grimaced at whatever expression Caleb was making, but soldiered onwards towards her point. “So you’re not possessing them to have freaky long distance animal sex? Because I’m definitely judging you if this is a wizard sex thing.”

“Why would you think that!?”

“No offence,” Beau said, meaning full offence, “but wizards are kind of the worst.”

“It is not a wizard sex thing!” Caleb hissed.

What it _was_ was a terribly romantic gesture. The kind of superstition he’d never considered when he made his move on Astrid, because at sixteen they’d been in a great rush to become mature and jaded. The kind of thing he imagined Essik couldn’t try out on another without losing face.

What you did, was: you left your familiar with someone you might be interested in, and then went elsewhere for the day, too far away to control the beast. And if your familiar stayed without wandering off, if it befriended its counterpart, then that meant—- it meant that— er, that is——

“And we are not having sex,” Caleb continued. “I am certain that Herr Theylas merely forgot him here this morning, and now cannot re-summon him while he is in Court. It is no matter.” 

And if Beau asked Caleb what it _really_ meant, that their familiars got along like this, Caleb might have to summon an earthen claw to bury himself alive in the backyard.

Beau just nodded, though, and clapped Caleb on the shoulder. “Well thank god for that. Let’s never talk about this again.”

Thus ended the worst conversation of Caleb’s day. At least until Jester found out.


	2. Chapter 2

Essik sat cross-legged and leafed through a stack of reports on supply chain sabotage in Asarius. This would have been a flagrantly inappropriate way to treat classified documents, had Essik and his papers not been hovering two feet above the floor. 

He finished with a form and set it down. Another floated up into his hands. He was well into the rhythm of it, lost in the details, when he felt Lysander nudge at his ear to get his attention. 

Ah. Someone was knocking at the door to his study. 

“Yes?” 

“My Lord Shadowhand.” His footman said. “The foreigner is here.” 

“I see,” Essik startled. “How unexpected. Allow me a moment to secure certain documents.”

Essik did not secure any documents. Instead, took the opportunity to collect himself. Hair? Smoothed back. Shirt collar? Two buttons undone, a look that was plausible for casual homewear. His spell? Adjusted two feet higher; an ostentatious height advantage, but not so tacky as to place Caleb at eye level with his crotch. 

Yes. Okay. This was good. _He_ was good. Essik was an extraordinary prodigy, the Shadowhand of the Krynn Dynasty. He had a keen eye for detail and a knack for improvisation. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. 

Essik cleared his throat. “You may now allow him in.” 

The door opened and Caleb entered, smelling of blood and brimstone. There were leaf stains on his hands and his scarf looked singed at the edges. He looked every bit the dashing rebel autodidact who followed no schools and was chained to no traditions.

Light, and here Essik was, in an utterly pedestrian study that any lord might furnish fresh out of school. Why could Caleb not have messaged ahead? Why could Essik not have been in his private library, or headed out for an official function? Why—

“My apologies, Shadowhand. Are we interrupting?” Caleb’s familiar trotted in behind him. “I was in the area after an... errand, and thought to return the last book you loaned me.” 

“Of course,” Essik said. “I would be happy to discuss it.”

Caleb shook his head. “I would not take you from your duties. You seem to be—“ His brow furrowed. “Is your furniture not agreeable?”

Essik smiled, and felt the knot of nerves in his stomach loosen. His sustained antigravity spell _was_ amazing, whether he cast it in a study or elsewhere. 

“Not at all.” Essik made an expansive gesture. “But what is the purpose of having magic such as this if you do not use it?”

“I see your meaning,” Caleb agreed. 

Caleb had that look in his eye, the same one he wore when he was copying a new spell. Except now time Caleb was trying to decipher the secrets of force and counter-force by looking straight at Essik, suspended in mid-air, instead of a dusty scroll. Essik felt his heart beat double-time. 

He was about to make a very witty and attractive follow-up comment when Lysander darted off his shoulder to fly down and greet Frumpkin. The little blue-black songbird landed on Frumpkin’s head and gave his ear a friendly preen. 

Oh. 

Um.

Essik had perhaps forgotten one detail, after all. 

“Your familiar.” Caleb stopped looking at Essik, and he felt briefly as though he might like to fly into the sun. “He’s a bird right now.” 

“I—“

“Is he... generally? A bird?” 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, he’s not an animal at all,” Essik blustered, because apparently he was incapable of talking to a handsome man for more than two minutes without dissolving into a pedantic mess. “He is a being of Celestial light which took form at my side, as a manifestation of my will to serve the realm.” 

But yes, Lysander was generally a bird. And not a cat. Except lately. On... specific occasions, where perhaps he might trade forms in the same manner as one might trade outfits before going on a date. 

“I can explain—“

“No need,” Caleb said. He set the book he’d borrowed on a shelf. “As I said, I do not wish to interrupt your work. I need to I shop for some components. I will see myself out.” 

With that, Frumpkin shook Lysander off and darted haughtily back into the hall, Caleb following after. That cat was no stolid Celestial companion. It was a Fae thing, bright as wildfire and as tricky as its master. He and Lysander were very different creatures. 

Essik spent the rest of the evening in a mild funk, until he heard a tapping at the windowpane in his bedroom, and found an absurdly tiny owl holding a note. Essik rescued the missive just in time for Lysander to land on the owl’s head again and send them both spiralling down into a bush. 

_Give Lysander our apologies,_ the note said. _Next time, I will message ahead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, my hand slipped again.


End file.
